


Oil and Burn

by Hearsesay



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 04:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hearsesay/pseuds/Hearsesay
Summary: Gallant never stood a chance. Michael finds that easy to believe.





	Oil and Burn

Even in the orange glow of candlelight, Mr.Gallant couldn't hide his mistakes. Not with Michael's hands sliding down his hips. Not with the two of them pressed nose to nose as the air slid between them, stale and still with the death of the world. Not with their lips pressing and sliding together in a way that picked up his pulse clearly from under pale skin.  
Michael took stock of the man so eager to press to him, dragging his fingers back against the fried blond strands, crunchy from one too many treatments. To keep it blond after so long in captivity with eye measured chemicals had to be follicle suicide, he didn't need to have Gallant's knowledge to know that. So he pulled and pulled, moving a spare hand to feel the proof of his need. Gallant just let out a soft breath. His bite had left him for the time being and Michael still couldn't decide on whether he prefered that or not.  
The disguise of something carnal was always the easiest to hide behind, taking rough handfuls of flesh and sweating as he took the time to just watch. Gallant's eyes, no matter what, were the eyes of a man in his thirties. Strung out from too many parties and too many bold white lines evened out with a credit card, crinkling in the corners as Michael squeezed his hips and knocked against him. He was sure that if he dug into Gallant, slowly tearing open skin and pushing warmness aside, he'd find an empty hollow between his ribs.  
Surprisingly, Michael found himself doubting whether or not he'd actually do so.  
He wanted to spread Gallant out, to unwind every piece of himself he'd hid in shame of from a washed up woman for years. To pick him apart piece by piece until he could see every bit of hairspray scented color nestled inside and blown out with chemical distractions. To look into his dull eyes, the eyes of someone who failed every test in school and worried more about his strung out appearance than whether or not he was actually existing, and bury Gallant under his skin.  
It wasn't until he heard the questions coming from the other man's mouth that Michael realized the standstill he'd fallen into, blinking owlish and slow as he coughed. Gallant seemed to almost take a step back at the skip in track. Like the unsureness coming from Michael was something wholly inhuman. But he was kept held close, his hand pressing to Michael's bicep as he looked to him.  
For as strung out and wasted away as Gallant was up close, wiped from any kind of Californian superficial glamour, Michael still had to admit that he was handsome. The softness to his face was undeniable, the openness almost charming. Dangerous.  
As the two of them stood in the low candlelight, flickering in and out of existence like bare ghosts in the nuclear winter, Michael would have fallen in love if he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is my first time writing anything for AHS, but I really loved these characters and wished we could have had more between them. Feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
